I'm Telling This Story At Your Wedding
by Yggdrasil'sRoots
Summary: A surprise visitor, sunshine, and ice cream. The pack day trip to the beach, and Derek is relieved of his board shorts, by none other than our very own Mr Stilinski.
1. Chapter 1

_**Once again, I blame tumblr. I think it's my catchphrase now.**_

_**Disclaimer: don't own jack shit, boy-o**_

"Get up, get up, get up!"

"What?" Derek frowns. It isn't the first time that Stiles has burst into the loft without prompting, and it definitely isn't the weirdest(that award is given to the time he burst in covered in glitter complaining about the 'queens'. Derek still has no idea what he was on about, because he had stormed off to the shower and gotten glitter_ everywhere_ and why couldn't he use his own shower again?), and even though Stiles still won't tell him how he got a key, he doesn't really mind his pack members coming here any more, not like he did when they were forced together a few years ago.

"Dude, do you not know what a beach is? We're going to one, the pack I mean, and it's going to be awesome and also where are your swim trunks?" Stiles is heading for his closet already, not giving him a chance to respond other than his standard "Don't call me dude, Stiles."

Then his words register and Derek rolls himself off the sofa, where he had fallen asleep last night, rolling the ache out of his shoulders and neck. He stumbles a little upon getting up, and glares at the surprised look he gets in return.

"I don't think I've ever seen you anything but graceful, man."

Derek ignores him. It isn't normal that Derek just gets up in the morning, he likes to lie and be sleepy for a while, and it's a luxury he doesn't often afford himself, but when a hyperactive twenty year old breaks into your home you don't have much of choice.

Stiles is digging through his drawer, shockingly neat compared with his usual search for something that he wants.

Maybe it's the fact that this is Derek's underwear drawer.

"Stiles, why are you looking for my swimming trunks?" Derek leans against the door frame lazily, still heavy from the last dregs of sleep drifting in his veins. Stiles stops rummaging through his drawer long enough to blink innocent doe eyes at him.

"Because we're going to the beach?"

"Do I get a say in the matter?" Derek isn't really protesting, it's a gorgeous day, and the heat is just unbearable enough that he probably would have suggested a trip to the beach soon anyway. But it's so amusing to watch Stiles flounder, with his long fingers still buried knuckle deep in Derek's favourite pair of boxer briefs.

It's even more amusing to watch him quirk his mouth up in a smirk and remember that antagonising each other is a tradition, and Derek isn't saying he's missed the kid's particular brand of sarcasm while he's away at university, but...

Okay, so maybe he misses Stiles when he's gone, but it's more missing the playful arguments that carry no heat any more, because somewhere they decided they were friends, and God, when the hell did that happen?

But regardless, Stiles' eyes are full of mischievous sparkles(attractive sparkles) and he's answering Derek, voice laden with mirth(also attractive).

"Not even the pretence of a choice, dude." Derek smiles, a genuine smile, and it took being surrounded by young, happy people for a few years that did it, and he's damn glad that he has them all, even Allison. Now that she isn't trying to kill them, anyway.

"So, the beach, huh?" Derek asks.

Stiles grins.

Derek is fiddling with the radio, trying not to laugh at the garish shirt that Stiles had declared beach wear. Derek had actually dropped his phone when Stiles had come out of his house wearing it, and Stiles had laughed so hard Derek had been afraid that he would pass out.

Now they're idling behind Lydia's car, and Scott's mom's car is behind them. The entire pack is joining them, and apparently that had been the plan all along, and Derek is grinning already. The trunk of the jeep is stuffed full, laden with belongings and beach supplies, one of which is a volleyball which Derek is itching to put to use.

"Derek, pick a station. You're worse than _I_ am." Stiles taps on the steering wheel frenetically, but he's smiling anyway.

"There's nothing good on." Derek complains. Up ahead the light turns green and Stiles lets the jeep roll forward slowly, still not sure which way Lydia will turn at the end of the next road. "Don't you have an ipod jack?"

Stiles points at the stereo.

"There you go, buddy."

"Is that a tape deck?" Derek is _horrified._ "How old is this car?" Stiles laughs outright, then, and opens the little flap to reveal that someone, presumably Stiles, has somehow attached an ipod cable to some exposed wires in the back of the slot. "Oh, neat."

Stiles honest-to-God _giggles. _

"_Neat._ Jesus, you're such an old man, Derek." Stiles passes his ipod over, laughing the whole time. Derek plugs it in, scrolling through his music slowly.

"How did you manage to get an ipod cable to work with a tape deck, anyway?" He taps on an album, grins as a Nina Nesbitt song starts.

"Dude, I didn't know you even knew who she is, cool!" Stiles exclaims. "And I didn't, Lydia did. In case you hadn't noticed, she's kind of a genius. She figured it out in half an hour, and most of that was stripping wires. Saved my life, I swear, I had just about resigned myself to paying to have the stereo replaced with something more modern. Lydia just rolls her eyes, whips a knife out, which by the way, dating Allison has made her _scarier_, if that's possible, and is all like, I can fix it up for you." Derek grins at the tangent, small as it is, because that's what makes talking to Stiles so fun. He once spent three hours detailing the sexual activities of a panda, and Derek didn't even get bored.

"Now, not only can Lydia tell you how to kill someone, she can actually _do it_, too." Derek says morosely. Stiles barks out a laugh, and flicks his indicator on.

"Preach, brother."

"Dude, c'mon!" Stiles' voice drifts from somewhere outside, and Derek huffs an exasperated sigh that isn't really exasperated. He gets out of the jeep, and shuffles over to where Stiles is unloading the contents of the jeep, directing Scott and Isaac to take the heavier stuff. Allison and Kira have the rest, and despite being the strongest, Boyd is leaning against the jeep, laughing at Erica while she tries to subtly sniff out the nearest ice cream place.

"I can't believe you made me wear these." Derek is wearing his tightest pair of swim shorts, and they look even tighter when they're wet. Laura bought them for him when they were only a little tight, and he's put on muscle since then, so now they're just obscene.

"Derek, they're fine, seriously. People will just drool over you even more now." Stiles says, through little bursts of laughter.

Lydia looks him over, and without looking, high fives Allison. Stiles and Erica pull the same move a few seconds later, and even Boyd gives him a thumbs up as Scott, Kira and Isaac grin behind their burdens. Liam is bent at the waist, gasping for breath, spluttering something about "Mason would love this, oh my god."

"I didn't think they were that bad." Derek mutters.

"Okay, let's go." Stiles is practically bouncing on the spot, obviously eager to get going, and his heart is doing this weird skippy thing that Derek can't quite place. Without bothering to say where they're going, he takes off down the beach, heading for the shops on the concrete unerringly.

Derek ambles after him contentedly, the others following like baby ducklings already. He jogs a little to catch up, swiping Kira's straw hat as he passes her. She has her hands full and can't get it back, swearing cheerfully and grinning as he perches the trilby on his head. Stiles makes a little moue of discontent as he looks about up ahead, and Derek catches him up properly.

"What are you trying to find?" Stiles has his phone out, tapping away rapidly.

"We're good, hang on." He murmurs distractedly as he receives a text. Derek turns around, sure he can smell jasmine, which is stupid. Some random woman must be wearing perfume, even though it doesn't smell like a perfume. It reminds him of his sister, and he smiles at the memory of her at the beach when he drive her back to her pack. They had stopped off at several beaches, and bonded properly. He misses her, and briefly thinks he should call her soon.

"Derek!"

He spins around so fast he almost unbalances.

"Cora?"

His baby sister is standing ten feet away, holding a bag and wearing a floppy sun hat, grinning and tan. She takes a running leap at him, and he catches her, hat and all, curling his arms around her and wincing at her shriek.

"Cora, what..?" He catches a glimpse of Stiles smiling, obviously satisfied, through a curtain of Cora's hair, and everything clicks into place. "Stiles? You sneaky little shit, oh my _God._"

Cora sticks her nose in his neck, floppy hat poking him in the eye as she eases her legs back down to the ground. He turns his face into her hair, inhaling her natural jasmine scent.

"I knew I smelled jasmine." He tells her.

"I missed you, Derek." She tells him softly. "You're shitty at texting."

Derek suddenly feels horribly guilty.

"Sorry." He whispers.

Eventually Cora lets him go, and he reluctantly does the same. Then he grins as every member of the pack gets a huge hug, even Liam, whom Cora has never met.

"You were in South America, Cor, what the hell? You can't call and say you're coming home?" Boyd demands when he gets his hug. They got really close when Boyd almost died at the hands of the alpha pack.

"It was a surprise." Cora grins. "I assume you're surprised?"

"Just a bit." Boyd smiles. Erica scoops up Kira's trilby from the ground where it had fallen after Cora had knocked it off, plopping it atop her own head.

"So, beach? I have serious tanning time to get in." Lydia informs them all with a toss of her hair, which is catching the light and practically glowing in the sunshine. Allison sends her a fond look, and she preens under the attention of her girlfriend.

"Where are we heading now? No more surprises?" Scott makes a show of shifting the cumbersome load he is carrying, even though there's no way he could be close to dropping it. Isaac pouts, though not nearly with the same effect as his alpha's puppy dog face.

"Nah, I don't have anyone else to spring on you." Stiles says, obviously proud of his sneakiness.

"After you, Stilinski." Lydia gestures. "And make sure to pick a good spot."

Stiles meets Derek's eyes over Lydia's head and smiles.

"Yes, ma'am."

They settle on an empty stretch of sand, relatively far from other people. Lydia and Allison immediately strip down to their bikinis, and head for the water with Kira and Liam, while Scott, Isaac and Boyd set up all the umbrella like sun shades. Stiles is laying a massive blanket down, big enough for all of them, and Cora is nimbly assembling the volleyball net Lydia had hired.

Derek is left with Erica.

"Hey, Derek, will you do my back?" She holds out a bottle of sunscreen, batting her eyelashes.

"You look ridiculous." He says.

"Please?" He rolls his eyes, and takes the bottle, deftly coating her back and scowling at the feel of the tackiness of his hands.

"You realise you can just heal the burn?"

"Doesn't make it any more pleasant, though." She pecks him on the cheek and wanders over to Boyd, tipping her face up for a kiss.

Stiles, finished laying the blanket, beckons him over. He's already sprawled out, sunglasses firmly in place.

"What, you don't want to go in the water?" Derek asks. "I thought that was the whole point?" he drops down beside him, reclining lazily. The ugly, bright shirt is still on Stiles, and Derek wrinkles his nose at it.

"Not just yet. Sun's nice." Stiles sounds like he's going to fall asleep already, and Derek can't help but grin at the drowsy boy. Well, not really boy, not any more.

"You're in the shade." He points out.

"Spoilsport." Stiles teases, nudging him with a knee. Then he sits up, heaving a reluctant noise and grinning. "Alright, you convinced me. Come swim with me, asshole."

"Okay." Derek strips off his shirt, watches as Stiles swallows thickly and ogles his abs.

"Do you just wake up with abs, seriously, man, it's crazy." Stiles takes the hand that Derek offers and pulls himself up, pulling off the awful shirt, that Derek eyes with distaste where it falls.

"You should burn that shirt." He states. Stiles' mouth drops open, and Derek tries to ignore how pretty it is, because Stiles is his friend and does not fall under ogle-able territory.

"Hey! This shirt is perfect beachwear, grumpy pants, it's classic!" Stiles argues.

Derek follows him as he strides towards the water, staring at shoulders that suddenly got crazy broad and muscular, and huffs a tiny growl.

"No, it's like a tie dye place threw up on it." Stiles turns around and narrows his eyes at him.

"You're gonna get it now."

"What?"

Stiles jut stalks off into the water, until he's waist deep. Derek follows until he's floating, and paddles a little to keep himself afloat.

That's when Stiles pounces, you see. He hollers a war cry as he surges towards Derek, flinging himself at him and pushing him underwater. All Derek can see as he goes under are Stiles' legs, kicking strongly, and the salt stings his eyes. When he resurfaces, Allison and Lydia are laughing hysterically at him, and Liam, Kira and Scott are having a splash war, not paying the slightest bit of attention. Derek splutters as he shakes his head, spits water out of his mouth.

"Oh, it's on." Stiles' eyes widen, and he swims out further, until his progress is halted by Derek grabbing his ankle.

"Derek, stop!" Stiles shrieks, delighted.

"War, Stilinski. War." He enunciates, with a vicious grin. And then he dunks him. Except half way through, Stiles decides that it's a better tactic to stop wriggling, and when Derek lets go of him, confused, he yanks Derek's shorts down and off.

So to summarise, Derek is standing in the ocean, naked as the day he was born, mouth wide open, as Stiles bursts up, waving his shorts triumphantly.

"Ha!" He exclaims, a broad grin plastered on his face.

"Stiles." Derek's voice is slightly strangled. "Are you _five_?" His poor façade slips, and he breaks out laughing so hard he goes silent.

"Six, at the very least." Stiles pouts, and Derek is hit with a wave of want. The only reason he doesn't pop a semi is because the water is freezing.

"There's nowhere to run, kid." He threatens jokingly.

"Not running. Just gonna go back to shore." Stiles suddenly takes off, and damn, the kid can be fast when he wants to be. He's back on shore in the blink of an eye, and when he gets the water out of his ears, Derek can hear him crowing about his win. Erica is dying laughing, and from here he can see she's actually fallen over, gasping into the blankets.

"Dishonour on your family! Dishonour on your shirt! Dishonour on your cow!" He yells to Stiles, who stops waving his shorts like they're a flag and stares. Derek scowls as he swims a little closer. The water reveals his happy trail, so he stops and puts his hands on his hips.

"You know Mulan?" Stiles yells, though not as loudly as he would have had to with a human.

"I'm not that old!" Derek shouts back.

"You almost deserve the shorts back!" Stiles tells him. "But I think not!" He lets out a villainous cackle, waving the shorts like a trophy.

"You don't want me to get out of this water, Stiles!"

"Maybe I do." Stiles whispers, Derek barely hears him, but no one else does, apparently, so Derek could just brush it off. Except...

He doesn't want to.

So he pulls up his metaphorical big boy pants, and walks towards the shore. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the others leaving, presumably for ice cream, and sighs in relief.

When he reaches Stiles, he's vainly trying to keep his eyes on Derek's face, blushing like a madman. But he holds out the shorts like they're a peace offering.

"Are you sure you want me to put them on?" It's almost a joke, but Derek's asking a serious question behind it, too. The heat simmering in Stiles' eyes and the rabbit quick patter of his heartbeat mostly give him his answer, but he wants to hear it.

"...Honestly?" Stiles sounds shaky, squeezes his eyes shut tight for a minute. "No. Not at all."

Derek kisses him.

He forgets that he's still naked, that people could probably see his ass if they bothered looking, that nudity is prohibited on this beach, because Stiles is kissing him back, and he's wrapping his arms around his neck, and even though Derek's shorts are cold against his back, he doesn't care.

"Right." Stiles says dazedly, when he pulls away to breath. "That always, basically."

"I can do that." Derek whispers, resting his forehead against Stiles'. They let their breath slow back to normal, pressing close to each other.

"You want the shorts?" Stiles chuckles lowly.

"Probably a good idea, I could get arrested." Stiles lets him go and hands him the shorts, and Derek yanks them on quickly. And then he kisses Stiles again, because he can now, so there, suck it. Someone clears their throat to their side, and they jerk in surprise. Derek had been so engrossed in Stiles that he hadn't heard their approach. He links their fingers together, unable to keep the massive grin off his face. A look at Stiles reveals he's in the same boat.

He never wants to look away.

"Guys?" Scott says, ice cream dripping over his fingers. "Are you done? Because we brought ice cream." The entire pack is standing there, holding ice cream cones, with varying states of smugness and shock on their faces, and Lydia is recording them on her phone.

"I'm playing this at your wedding, boys." She tells them.

Honestly, you can't help but laugh at that.


	2. The Wedding

_**Oops I wrote a sequel. Best man speeches are hard. Vows are hard. How do people manage it in real life?**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Ever.**_

"Mr and Mr Stilinski-Hale, everyone!"

Applause rings thunderous in Stiles' ears, and he can hear the exuberant whooping of the pack, most notably Erica and Scott, layered over the other noises. He looks over to where Lydia is resplendent in her pale green bridesmaid dress, and is subtly dabbing away mascara laden tears before they leave black streaks on her skin. Allison is beaming at them, Scott and Kira are cuddled together, most likely reminiscing about their own wedding, and the rest of the pack are cat calling and crying.

Weddings turn the pack into a sobbing mess. They know this from experience. First Melissa and his Dad, then Scott and Kira, then Allison and Lydia, and now them. Every member of the pack had bawled like a child at some point during the weddings or reception, including those _actually _getting married.

Stiles has already had his moment welling up, while Derek had read his vows. They had both written their own, and, according to their particular brand of sappiness,, were full of tear inducing lines.

_"Stiles, I was a grumpy, sour, __painfully__ lonely man when I met you. And you didn't __let me wallow in it for __one second, pushing me and coaxing me out of it until I fell in love with you. Of course, like the emotionally repressed butthole I was back then, I pined for a couple of years. But then that day on the beach, surrounded by our friends, I finally realised that you were just as in love as I was, am and will be forever. I love you, and I'm proud to call you my best friend, my partner, and in about five minutes, my husband. I can't wait. These are my last words as your fiancé, and as an unmarried man, and I say get a damn move on!"_

Stiles had kissed him without even thinking about it, and everyone had cheered, even the minister, although he had joked "I think you're supposed to save that for later!" He broke away with his tears on Derek's cheeks, laughing as he cried.

And now they're married, cutting the cake and cheerfully mashing it in each other's faces. Stiles is married to Derek Hale, a fact he can't quite believe.

"I love you." Derek tells him softly. Then he sticks the fork in Stiles' mouth. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happy and relaxed with his joy.

"I love you, sourwolf." Stiles manages to garble through a mouthful of chocolate cake, provided by Kira's cake shop, which is a roaring success. And then he holds out the fork for Derek, watching heatedly as Derek slides the cake into his kitchen with his tongue, locking the crumbs off his lips smugly. He knows exactly the effect he has on Stiles. The flash of a camera goes off, and he knows that's going to be a beautiful photo, one he already wants framed and hung in the apartment the two of them share.

(It's the best photo he's ever seen, he decides, when Jordan shows him later; it's perfectly captured the look Derek is giving him, and the way Stiles' hand had fisted in his new husband's jacket at the promise in his eyes. They hang it in their bedroom.)

Once cake is done with, it's time for their first dance together as husbands; Michael Buble starts crooning and Derek pulls him close and laces their fingers together, smiling warmly.

"You and I?" He laughs, face pressing into Stiles' shoulder.

"Mmm, thought it was fitting." Stiles kisses him then, long fingers of his free hand framing his new husband's jaw, stroking the stubble gently. "You and I, we can conquer the world..." He sings along softly, the words mostly muffled into Derek's cheek, where he shoves his face. They wrap their arms around each other and sway, humming and generally ignoring the world around them.

The song finishes, and Stiles breaks away briefly.

"Yo Scotty! We're a go, man!" Derek is frowning, but clearly unopposed to another of the harebrained schemes that Stiles and his best friend have come up with over the years. But Stiles thinks he's going to like this one.

"Cool, man!" Scott yells back.

And then Howling for You by the Black Keys starts playing. And Stiles pulls Derek into a weird half grind half disco moves dance which basically makes everyone watching dissolve into hysterical giggles. The entire pack is singing along, and they've already crowded around them, which prompts everyone else to start dancing, and soon they're just a happy mess of writhing bodies.

And then it's time for the best man's speech.

"Stiles and I met in the sandbox when we were four years old." He declares proudly. "We're those friends that have an almost unhealthily dependent relationship, which is just the way we like it." The guests laugh obligingly. "Derek and Stiles hated each other when they met. It took a long time for them to even manage to be nice to each other, let alone actually make friends, and even that was only really because Stiles bullied Derek into it." More laughs. "But once they did make friends, they rivalled Stiles and mine's friendship. And I think I saw when Derek fell in love, one night at a movie marathon where Stiles saved Derek a few slices of his favourite pizza. It was like an epic movie moment, all soft looks and Stiles being oblivious like he always is about his hotness." Scott laughs and winks at Stiles, and he's hit by a wave of affection for his best dude. "But see, even though I saw Derek falling in love, I didn't see Stiles do the same. And I think that was because he was already in love, and that day on the beach was just him being loved back like he deserves. Anyway, I'm going to cry if I keep talking, so I'm going to pass over to Lydia now, because she called dibs on telling that story on their wedding day, and she also managed to film the entire thing!" Scott passes the microphone to Lydia and sits down, sniffing a little as he does. Lydia stands, graceful as ever, and clears her throat.

"It all started when Stiles stole Derek's swim trunks." She states clearly. And I got the whole thing on camera."

Stiles leans into Derek's side and watches himself steal Derek's shorts, get kissed and interrupted, and laughs along with everyone else as they experience it for the first time.

"Aren't you paying attention?" He whispers to Derek, who's been staring at him the whole time.

"'S okay. I was there." Derek captures him in a kiss, deep and full of love, and Stiles ' mind is already wandering to the possibility of handjobs in a closet somewhere when everyone's distracted later.

"Mm, I remember. It was a good day." He says, when he pulls away. Lydia is holding up her glass expectantly.

"Did we lose you, boys?" She smiles fondly, obviously remembering how much attention she paid to Stiles' mushy powerpoint of how awesome and adorable she and Allison had been whilst dating, and indeed they had carried on in the same vein after tying the knot.

He blushes and tears his gaze away from Derek, who's cheeks are pinking up like they always do when he gets embarrassed.

"Sorry, Lyds. You were saying?" He prompts.

Lydia smiles and jiggles her glass.

"To Derek and Stiles! May you find each other through all the lives you will ever live, and live on in the stars."

Derek bursts out crying. And to be honest, Stiles wasn't expecting Lydia to turn out to be so poetic, but really, if you expect Lydia not to do something, she'll do it just to spite you.

When Derek has stopped sobbing, they toast themselves(which is weird, really) and the DJ starts up with the music.

And so it continues for roughly three hours, until everyone is drunk, leaning on each other, with sore feet. Stiles is suddenly really glad Derek said their flight should be the day after the wedding. But for now, he just leans into Derek, smiles softly, and fantasises about their life together.

It's going to be pretty great.

They do manage to sneak away for handjobs, except they turn out to be blowjobs instead when Derek cites less mess as a reason. Stiles does not need a reason to get his mouth on Derek, and vice versa. They get caught by Liam when he tries to find a mop for Boyd. Liam blushes fire engine red.

But it's fine, great in fact, because Stiles is in love, and he is loved in return, and even though they don't need each other, they want each other, and they're never going to stop.

And really, it couldn't get much more perfect than that.


End file.
